


One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

by rthstewart



Series: Tales Of The Calormene Trickster [3]
Category: Chronicles of Narnia - All Media Types, Chronicles of Narnia - C. S. Lewis
Genre: Gen, Golden Age (Narnia), Talking Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-01
Updated: 2021-01-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:00:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28485015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rthstewart/pseuds/rthstewart
Summary: When she thought about it, Hwin realizedspysounded far more impressive thandumb slave.
Series: Tales Of The Calormene Trickster [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2086446
Comments: 14
Kudos: 38





	One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

One Step Back, Two Steps Forward

Book 3 in the _Tales of the Calormene Trickster_.

Taken in part from _Herd Mentality_ and _The Horse and Her Girl._

* * *

Hwin was not sure what she was expecting from her long dreamed of return to Narnia. There had not been time to think about it in the secret journey across Calormen with Aravis. Once Bree and Shasta, that is Prince Cor, joined them, Bree and Aravis had done most of the talking. The perils and problems of Tashbaan had followed and then there had been the terrifying race across the desert to warn Archenland and Narnia of Rabadash and his invasion.

Once the army was defeated, there had not been time then, either. It was all merriment, a victory won, a Prince returned, Aravis settled (Hwin hoped), and celebrations. Only then had she really been able fret about her actual homecoming. Her worries had been relieved very much by meeting her Monarchs, the King Edmund and the Queen Lucy, who were very gracious and most grateful for Hwin's own part in the drama. Hwin had been abducted from Narnia as a timid foal; she returned to Narnia as a Mare and a hero.

Whatever it was that she had expected in rejoining her ancestral herd, Hwin was sure that this wasn't it.

"No grass is sweeter," said Copper between mouthfuls.

"You are right about that," replied Melba. "That colt of yours is growing fine, Flora. Make sure he gets variety in his diet for strong bone growth."

Flora laid back her ears. "I've raised three foals already, Melba. You just watch your own filly, thank you very much."

"So, Hwin, the grass isn't as sweet in Calormene, is it?" Copper said, not bothering to look up from her eating.

"Well," Hwin began.

"Of course it isn't," Serge said, striding up to check on _his_ Mares.

Hwin let out a weary sigh and swished her tail, pretending it was a fly that annoyed her, rather than the stuffy Stallion. She had tried to express her views before but the Talking Horses simply refused to believe that anything could be as fine as Narnia. How they could speak with such authority when they had never left this admittedly lovely meadow, she didn't understand. Never again would she complain of Bree's _I-know-it-all_ manner. Bree had become a much more humble Horse after his experience with Aslan and in fact he _did_ have a wide and varied experience.

Unlike her present company.

Serge's head shot up and he let out an irritated snort. "There's another Stallion coming."

The Mares' heads all came up too and they looked about, inhaling deeply.

"It is Bree," Hwin said, recognizing his familiar scent.

"Oh! He's that new Stallion!" Flora said, craning her neck about. "He's very handsome."

"Young Stallion like that should be settling down with Mares in his own Band," Copper said, returning to her eating.

"Are you going to join his Band, Hwin?" Melba asked. "You two would be so well- matched. You're getting up there, too. Imagine, five years old and no foal to call your own!" Her whinny was not kind.

"He's got no manners, that one, growing up in foreign parts," Serge said with an angry whicker. "He shouldn't be poaching on my Mares! I'll take it up with the King Edmund, I will!"

Hwin had finally had enough. She stomped her hoof angrily. "Oh go eat some grass, all of you. Bree is my friend and I am going to speak with him!" Laying back her ears, she snaked her neck toward Serge and nipped him on the shoulder. "Serge, I have met King Edmund and received a commendation of valour from him, and I assure you, he would not like you claiming I am your Mare when I have told you I am not yours and am not a member of your Band."

Adding an angry snort of her own, Hwin trotted off to see Bree who, contrary to Serge's ridiculous insults, was politely staying well away from the Band. He had learned Herd politics very quickly after four different Stallions had chased him away from their Bands when all he had tried to do was introduce himself.

"Bree!" she nickered. "It is wonderful to see you!"

He was looking warily beyond her to Serge who was acting like an idiot and prancing and blowing. Bree was a Calormene combat-trained warhorse and he could have knocked the ridiculous Stallion over with no effort. Instead, Bree just turned his back on Serge as not worth his notice.

"Hello, Hwin. Sorry if I caused a problem for you with your Band."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, Bree." She rubbed her head along his neck and he returned the greeting with a nicker and gentle nip. "I've not joined a Band, certainly not that one."

"How are you?" Bree asked, sniffing her all over. "You are annoyed."

"Promise me, Bree, that you won't tell anyone, but I never thought I would wish to be around horses who _did not_ talk!"

Bree stretched his neck and whinnied his laugh.

They turned together and began walking toward the River. The Otters at Glasswater were very loud and rude, but they liked Bree because he had taught them a soldier's Calormene curses. Hwin had learned the Otters performed serious guard duties and, despite their really awful manners, were held in very high regard for their valour. They were very effective killers.

"You seem different," Hwin said. If she was annoyed, he seemed strangely quiet. "Is everything well?"

Bree had had difficulties with this transition as she had, though his had been hard in different ways. She had suffered from too much Talking Horse company and as a new Stallion with no Band to call his own, Bree had had very little.

"I've come to say good-bye," Bree said. "I'm leaving the Glasswater Creek."

"Where are you going?" Hwin asked.

"To Cair Paravel. The General offered me a position when we were in Archenland. I'm going to join the Narnian Army."

"Oh," Hwin said, feeling very sadly deflated.

"I'm sorry," Bree said. He looked over his shoulder, in the direction of the Band. "I don't belong here, at least not yet."

"I think it's a good decision, Bree," Hwin said sadly. "You do know a lot about cavalry and war. You provided good intelligence to Narnia after the Archenland siege."

Bree ears pricked in surprise. "How did you know about that?"

"I heard the King Edmund say so." And to his credit, Bree had not boasted of it at all. "King Edmund told King Lune you were able to identify the Calormenes, that you helped with the ransoms and repatriations, and had very good information about the Calormene capability. You have knowledge the Narnians do not have."

The Stallion rubbed his head against her shoulder. "Thank you, Hwin." They had reached the river's edge and right away one of the Otters came bounding up.

"Oi! Sodding hell! It's that effing Horse!"

"Effing" in this context, Hwin had learned, was a compliment in the language of Otters.

Bree lowered his head so that he looked the Otter in the eye. "If I give you a phrase, you will leave us alone?"

"Hell yes," the Otter said, prancing with eagerness.

" _Ecdadini gitten sikeyim,_ " Bree said.

Hwin snorted.

The Otter looked at her, crafty. "It's a good one?"

"Oh yes," Hwin assured him. "Very foul." While Tarkaans were politely spoken around Human females, they could be very profane around horses. She had heard her share of curses in several Calormene dialects.

"What's it mean?" the Otter asked.

"It is a very rude insult to someone's ancestors," Bree said.

"Bugger that," the Otter said with a cackling laugh. He spun about, splattering mud. "Oi! Clodpoles!" he shouted to his fellow Otters further down the embankment. "Ecdadini gitten sikeyim!"

"He's a good mimic," Hwin observed.

Bree laughed in his bree-hee way.

They walked together, following the river, not bothered by the Otters, though they could still hear them. Finally, they stopped and just stood together, swishing the flies off each other's backs with their chopped off tails. She and Bree were more comfortable with not speaking than the other Talking Horses, probably because they had both had to be silent for so long.

Behind her, Hwin caught movement and instinctively flinched for the danger.

"Squirrels," Bree said calmly. "It's nothing."

"When do you leave?" Hwin asked.

"Now," Bree said. "There's no reason to stay. I just came over to say good-bye."

"Oh," Hwin said, laying her ears back and her head down. But he didn't move to leave and neither did she.

"Hwin, are you happy?" Bree finally said.

"No," she admitted. "Not really. Maybe my hopes were too high. Maybe I'm too Calormene, or too Human, or too much a dumb horse. I don't know what I expected, but I didn't risk everything with you and Aravis and Prince Cor to spend my days listening to silly Horses talk about whether the grass is better at one end of a small meadow, or another."

Bree nickered his agreement. "Come with me to Cair Paravel, then."

"Oh Bree, I'm not a war horse," Hwin said, though she was very touched.

He snorted and sounded more like his old, arrogant self. "No, but I'm sure there's something you could do. King Edmund and Queen Lucy did say that if we ever needed anything, we should just ask."

"But do what, Bree? I was a Tarkheena's mount. I flinch at squirrels behind me!" Hwin sighed heavily. "I'll just go back to the Band." She rubbed her head sadly against him. "Good-bye and Aslan guide you."

"Good-bye, Hwin. I'll send word of things to you, when I can."

She left her friend and the noisy, swearing Otters and trudged back to Serge and the Mares with heavy hooves and a heavier heart. At the meadow's edge, she swiveled her ears and heard Copper chewing and talking to herself and Melba and Flora arguing over whose foal was eating better. Serge was trotting about huffing and puffing like a bellows and when he saw her, let out a piercing, compelling whinny that every Mare knew meant, "Come here, now!"

_But not me._

Hwin turned around and galloped back the way she had come. Bree was just starting to ford the river, up to his knees and the Otters were all swimming around him, exchanging good-natured insults.

"Wait! Bree!" she called and slid down the bank as quick as she was able. "I'm coming with you!"

Bree swished his chopped off tail and flicked water all over the Otters. He let out a triumphant bugle and Hwin added her own neighing chorus. "Bra-ha-ha! Broo Hoo!"

"To Cair Paravel and the North!"

* * *

Walking through the gates of Cair Paravel, Hwin began to understand why the Calormenes had looked down so much on Narnia. In comparison to Tashbaan, and even the lesser cities of Calormen, Cair Paravel was beautiful, but _so small_! Even the Calavar estate had been larger. To a Horse's sensitive nose, Cair Paravel did not smell of the flowers, spices, and perfumes of Calormene homes. It smelled very much like a barn. A nice barn, but a barn. Or... She caught a distinctive odour and shuddered at a smell that was like a butcher's stall in the market. Even Bree was uneasy for he blew out of his nostrils and arched his neck. They both associated the stink of dead animals with predators.

No one thought it strange to see two Horses making their way to the seats of the Four. The Centaur, Red Dwarf, Dogs, and Badger they met were all very friendly. They were not so Narnian that they could be calm about smelling and then seeing Wolves, Bears and big Cats. She wanted to run; Bree wanted to fight.

Several dumb, but very well-groomed, horses turned out in a paddock trotted up to them, curious and shy. Admiring how well they looked, and sounding like his former, more insecure self, Bree grumbled, "Maybe I should have waited until my tail grew out."

"Don't be silly, Bree," she replied. "We had our tails cut so that we could escape Calormen and that was how we were able to warn the North of Rabadash. If the Horses of the Army knew that, short tails would be the fashion."

At a fork in the paths, Bree flicked his ears. "I hear sword play that way." Hwin could just make out the clashing sounds. "That's where the Army will be." The other path was well worn and led upwards, toward the inner court of the palace. "Do you want me to go with you?" Bree asked.

Hwin twitched her flank and nervously flicked her tail. She did not want to go by herself. "No, thank you, Bree," she said instead. "You go see the General. I'll be fine."

Bree set off at a purposeful trot, head and tail up. He was a fine Stallion and Hwin was sure he would find an excellent position in the Army. Apart from his own training, he knew a great deal about the Calormene soldiery.

With a _thfbbbt_ of her lips in a heavy sigh, Hwin turned toward the Palace. She crossed the lawns and began climbing the stairs to the front doors. The steps were shallow and easy for even short-legged Beasts to climb. There were Beasts and Beings coming and going and everyone seemed to have a purpose. They were all cordial.

A Centauress larger than Hwin herself and a Leopard were guarding the front doors of the Palace and were vigilant enough to make Hwin very nervous.

She found her head lowering automatically.

"Good morning, Mare," the Centauress said. "What's your business here?"

"Good morning, noble and esteemed Guards." She was slipping into the formal, Calormene-style of speech she had heard for years and knew it sounded odd in Narnia. "I humbly seek an audience with one of our Monarchs," Hwin said softly. "At a time agreeable to their Majesties, of course."

"The High King is within," the Centauress said.

Hwin felt her ears go flat. "Oh, I do not wish to disturb him. I hoped to briefly speak with the King Edmund or the Queen Lucy. If convenient for their esteemed persons, of course." They must think her so strange but speaking so was how the Calormenes spoke formally and that was what she knew best.

"Why?"

"I met our Just King and Valiant Queen in Archenland," Hwin replied, feeling a little more confident on this footing. "They had said that at need, I might seek them out."

"Oh!" the Centauress exclaimed, very surprised.

"Grilling a hero of the Archenland siege is bad form, Eirene," the Leopard said, speaking for the first time. "You are Hwin?"

"I am."

To her shock, both Leopard and Centauress bowed.

"Ha!" a voice croaked from a banister on the steps. "It's true then! Bree's in the training yard with King Edmund and the General. I bet Hwin would be here, too!" The Crow then flew off, cawing the news.

Eirene shook her head. "Not a moment here and you already have met the Crows and been subject to a wager. Welcome to Cair Paravel, Lady Hwin. The honour is ours. I will take you to the High King."

The plan was interrupted because Hwin, to her embarrassment, was greeted and congratulated by a throng of Narnians. It was a little intimidating, but also very nice to experience the interest in and respect for her adventures that she’d not had at the Herd.

They finally pushed their way through the crowd after a stern Red Dwarfess shooed everyone out of the Palace entry with a broom. It was all so very different from any Calormene estate. There were muddy prints all over the floors and Hwin could see feathers and hair everywhere.

Eirene knocked at the great Council Room door. "Fooh will have told the High King we are here, but it's still polite to knock."

Fooh was probably the High King's royal guard. The Monarchs were all guarded by fierce carnivores. In Archenland. She had met Briony, Queen Lucy's she-Wolf guard and the Tiger, Sir Jalur, guard to King Edmund. Briony had been very kind; she understood that Sir Jalur disliked speaking and so she had, of course, not disturbed him or spoken with him.

"Enter!" a voice called.

The doors swung open and Hwin found herself before the High King Peter of Narnia. King Peter was sitting at the head of a large table. Two others she recognized from Archenland were with the King -- Lord Peridan was on his right, and Mr. Tumnus on his left. Hwin shuddered nervously, for there was not one, _but two, Cheetahs_ in the room as well.

"Lady Hwin!" Lord Peridan cried, rising from his seat. "This is very fortunate! High King, may I introduce you to Lady Hwin, previously of Calavar Province and lately of Glasswater Creek!"

Hwin bowed her head and was thoroughly embarrassed when the High King jumped up from his chair and strode forward to greet her with a kiss.

"Friend, we are well met. Narnia thanks you for your service to her and our great ally, Archenland." He kissed her again. "As a brother, and as King, I thank you. You are _most_ welcome here."

With the HIgh King’s words and emphasis, Lord Peridan made a rude little noise.

"We are, indeed, very grateful to see you, Lady Hwin," the Faun said with an odd, sideways look of disapproval at Lord Peridan.

Hwin twitched an ear and looked between the Faun and Lord Peridan. In Archenland, based upon her limited interaction with them, she had realized they disliked one another. There was conflict here between the two of them and the High King was, she perceived, in the middle of it and deeply annoyed.

"Thank you, High King. It is very good to meet you. Lord Peridan and Mr. Tumnus, it is very good to see you both again." Doing what she knew she did best, she began very carefully, "And is all well here?"

"Yes," Tumnus said; "No," Peridan said.

One of the Cheetahs growled. The High King pressed his fingers to his forehead and Hwin sensed his frustration. "Lady Hwin, as you are recently from Calormen, might Narnia call upon you to mediate a difference of opinion, _again_ , between my two valued advisors?"

"I…" Hwin hesitated. What could she possibly contribute? "I am no warrior, High King. I was only a dumb horse to a Tarkheena."

"War council we have," the High King said. "But were you not secretly an observer of Calormene society for many years?"

"Oh, yes, High King, most assuredly." The way the High King spoke made it seem as if they regarded her as like _a spy_ , which did sound more exciting than simply a dumb horse slave.

"Excellent. I seek an opinion on how to respond to a letter from the Tisroc in which he disavows all knowledge of and responsibility for this unprovoked attack." The High King paused. "At least, I think that is what he writes." He scratched his head. "There may be an apology as well."

"And, yet in the same long sentence, he accuses Narnia of sorcery upon his son and threatens severe trade sanctions and punishment of any Narnian within his borders." Tumnus said.

“That would be me.” Willa the Rat waved a paw from a seat by the window at one end of the Council Room. Hwin had met the daring spy in Archenland.

When Peridan rolled his eyes and made another rude sound directed at Tumnus, the Faun glared at him and added, "Concededly this might not be what the Tisroc actually means. His language is very oblique."

"It's perfectly plain, if you understand the Calormene," Peridan retorted. "Which you do not, Tumnus."

If the Narnians were unaccustomed to it, Hwin could easily see how confusion had arisen. "Blessed is the man who hears the sea’s silent song and writes the words of the wind in sand."

Peridan laughed. "The Lady Mare knows her poets and speaks as the Calormene!"

"I heard that quoted to me in Tashbaan," Tumnus said. "What does it mean?"

"It is best explained, Mr. Tumnus, that the most esteemed and polite of Calormene communication is intentionally conveyed to be capable of many meanings," Hwin said.

The High King slumped back into his seat, and Lord Peridan and Mr. Tumnus returned to their chairs. "So this is intentionally contradictory?"

The fine, edged parchment of the Tisroc's court was on the table. “I should think so, yes, your Majesty. And the more important the communication, the more open its meaning. A letter from the Tisroc himself" -- Hwin was pleased she didn’t even have to check herself to not add ‘May he live forever' -- “would likely have taken over a month to compose with the highest members of his Court and careful negotiation of every word.” She’d heard many such debates in outdoor courtyards and gardens and during long rides. “I believe the letter bears the Tisroc’s own perfume, which is actually a very good sign and is reserved for only the most serious of correspondence. I would expect, given the circumstances, that it could be both apologetic _and_ threatening, conciliatory _and_ aggressive.”

"Which is what I have been..."

"That is enough, Peridan," the High King said curtly. There was no doubt who held the authority here as the Lord Peridan swallowed his words with a muttered apology.

“Lady Hwin, how would a simple Narnian be expected to respond to such a missive?” the High King asked.

“Carefully,” Hwin replied emphatically. “You must decide what you wish to respond to and ignore the rest. Your response should reframe as necessary for your advantage.”

“What do you mean?” Tumnus asked as the High King muttered “Reframe?”

“For example, you cannot tell if the Tisroc has apologized, so if you wish to be on more cordial hoofing, you might assume that he did so and respond, ‘We thank your Eminence for the esteemed apology and do accept it in kind and in the spirit in which it is offered.’” Hwin paused. “It should be longer, of course, and more perfumed, and with more description and invocation of the gods.”

"Lady Hwin, we owe you much already. If we might prevail upon you, again, would you enlighten us so that I might understand and then respond appropriately?"

"Of course, High King." This was not the battle to which Bree had been trained. This was battle of another sort, and something which a nervous, sensitive Mare might do, and very well. Hwin stepped up to the space made for her at the table.

"Most Horses do not read well due to their eyes," Mr. Tumnus said, sparing her what would have been an embarrassing admission. "Shall I read the letter?

"Yes, thank you, Mr. Tumnus."

"Then let us begin, again," the High King said. "Peridan and Tumnus, I expect you both to listen before you speak."


End file.
